


Mother knows best

by Jinxgirl



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8270935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxgirl/pseuds/Jinxgirl
Summary: Angela has strong ideas about who Jane should date. To Jane's horror, she has shared this with Maura.





	

“I’ve been thinking, Janie, and I think I finally know the perfect person for you to date,” Angela Rizzoli asserted, nodding her head for emphasis. “It just came to me the other day, and I can’t believe I didn’t ever think of it before.”

Jane had been tuning her mother out for the past five minutes or so of their lunch together, a skill she had perfected over the years out of a necessity to avoid rolling her eyes straight out of their sockets or else committing a particularly violent and creative crime against her. But this declaration was one that broke through her blissful, glassy-eyed “listening.” Her mother and her ideas of Jane’s romantic life, or lack thereof, was one area of many that Jane avoided discussing with her when at all possible. She sometimes suspected that Jane’s reluctance to do so was the exact reason that Angela was so obsessed with it.

“Ma, I’m already eating this pile of grass you forced on me, because it’s going to keep me from getting heart disease at 35, or whatever you were going on about,” Jane held up her salad fork, speared with a piece of cucumber, in the same manner that someone else might have held up a spear. “And now you’re gonna make me listen to your dating recommendations too? What is this, Improve Your Offspring Evening?”

“People can get heart disease in their twenties, missy, and I’ve seen the way you open a beer and a pizza box in your kitchen and call it a home cooked meal,” Angela shook her head, clucking her tongue in disapproval. “It won’t hurt you to add some vegetables to your diet. And calcium, don’t forget that osteoporosis is no joke. Your great aunt Julia-“

“My great aunt Julia lived to be 93, so she must have been doing something right,” Jane sighed, poking at her salad savagely without actually lifting a bite to her mouth. “And I run, I lift weights, I play baseball and basketball, Maura makes me go do that yoga stuff with her, I don’t think I’m in any danger of dropping dead any time soon, Ma.”

“Ah, so Maura cares about your health too, huh?” Angela was already nodding, a strangely sly look coming over her expression. “Maura’s a smart girl, she’s got a real head on her shoulders, Janie, and she knows what she’s talking about. You’d do well to listen to Maura Isles. That reminds me-“

“I know, I know, you and Maura are bestest buds, you like her because she’s the only person that doesn’t smart off to you and actually thinks you’re funny,” Jane rolled her eyes, letting her elbow fall to the table and ignoring her mother’s pointed gesture for her to remove it. “I wouldn’t take it all that seriously though, Ma, Maura doesn’t actually know how to make a joke, so it’s not saying a lot if she thinks you’re an example of hilarious wit.”

“Well I’ll tell you what, Jane Clementine Rizzoli, one thing Maura does a damn good job with is respecting her mother, and your mother too,” Angela huffed, drawing herself up straight in her seat and crossing her arms across her chest as she stared her daughter down. “You could do worse for yourself than Dr. Isles, that’s for certain.”

“Ma, I’m not saying that Maura’s not a good friend, of course she is,” Jane agreed somewhat wearily, letting her fork drop and holding up both hands as though in surrender. “She’s great, I’d never say otherwise. Just- can we have a lunch without you ragging on me?”

“Ragging on you? Now how is a mother expressing concern and interest in her daughter’s romantic interests ragging on you?” Angela demanded, frowning towards Jane as she took a bite of her own meal. Jane hadn’t failed to notice, of course, that whereas Angela had recommended her daughter eat a salad, she herself had a sandwich that was practically the size of her head.

“Well, there’s interest, and then there’s obsession,” Jane muttered, somewhat weary. “Anyway, you were talking about Maura, that’s got nothing to do with romantic interests.”

She didn’t like the knowing little smirk that curved her mother’s lips. Even before Angela spoke, Jane knew already that she wasn’t going to like whatever it was she had to say.

“Oh, it does, does it?”

Jane pointed her fork at her accusingly, her eyebrows knitting. “Ma, get that look off your face, you look like Jo Friday when she gets into the trash. What are you talking about? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Angela protested, none too convincingly. “I just think that maybe you ought to rethink Maura and your romantic interests not having anything to do with each other, that’s all.”

“What, let Maura choose my dates?” Jane was confused. “Believe me, she’s just as interested as you are, and just as irritating about her opinions on it too.”

“Janie, I know you’re a smart girl, but sometimes, you just don’t get it,” Angela clucked. “What I’m trying to tell you is that Maura is the one you should date. She’s the one I was talking about, the one that would be absolutely perfect for you. I’m just saying, you can’t do any better than Dr. Maura Isles, so why not go for it?”

Jane heard her fork clatter to the floor before she was aware that she had dropped it. As her mother shook her head, remarking on her clumsiness and starting to muse aloud if Jane had developed some sort of carpal tunnel from holding her heavy gun, Jane just gawked at her, not bothering to close her open mouth.

“Ma, I know I didn’t just hear you suggest I date Jane in the same tone of voice you suggest I drink more milk and take my vitamins,” she stated, but Angela just nodded calmly.

“No, you heard me, Janie, and you’re right, you do need to drink more milk and take your vitamins. And while you’re at it, close your mouth, you’ve still got food in there and it’s very unattractive to look at when a person’s trying to eat.”

“You think I should date MAURA?” Jane exclaimed, very much aware of the sudden increased tempo of her heartrate, the strange rushing noise flooding her ears, and the heat coming into her cheeks. “Maura Isles? As in, Maura Isles, the woman?”

“Well, of course,” Angela shrugged again, taking another bite of her sandwich. “Do you know a Maura Isles who’s a man? Because that would just be cruel of his parents, I made sure that I gave you and your brother good, strong names that no one would ever think belonged to another gender-“

“Ma, are you forgetting something?” Jane burst out with, her usually raspy voice rising to the point that it was almost shrill enough to rival her mother’s when she was particularly upset. At Angela’s puzzled look in response to her question, Jane blurted out, “I’m not GAY! What the hell made you think otherwise?!”

“Janie, there’s no need to raise your voice,” Angela said calmly, seemingly oblivious to her daughter’s humiliation. Jane, on the other hand, was well aware of just how loudly she had spoken, and as she took in several curious stares around her, her face flamed further red. “We’re just having a mother daughter talk here. I’ve watched shows about these things, and you show all the signs. You have a deeper voice, you don’t walk like a lady, you don’t like dresses or makeup or heels, you play sports, every time I bought you a doll when you were a little girl you cut off all her hair and tied her to trees-“

“I was playing Cowboy and Indians!” Jane hissed, leaning towards her mother over the table unconsciously. “I was a tomboy, Ma, not a lesbian!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, Janie,” Angela nodded, still unconcerned with her daughter’s outburst. “But then you met Maura, and the way you girls are with each other, well, I’ve just been thinking, and I want you to know you have my blessing.”

“The way we are? What, friends? You mean the fact that I have a friend who happens to be a girl? Well let me clear up any confusion, Ma, if you haven’t seen me feeling her up or shoving my tongue down her throat, you can rest assured that me and Maura are not hot for each other,” Jane muttered, running a shaking hand through her hair. 

But even as she spoke, the very images she was speaking of came into her mind, no matter how hard she tried to push them away. She thought about the times she had woken up with her arms slung over Maura in their shared bed, how she had sometimes deliberately drank in front of her late at night, knowing Maura would insist on her staying over rather than drive home. She thought about how often they woke in the morning with Maura’s face pushed into her neck, how she had always noticed and appreciated the smell of her hair, how Maura, more than any other, always made her smile with a simple look. 

But that didn’t mean anything. She and Maura were friends, that was what friends did. 

Wasn’t it? 

“We’re friends, Ma,” Jane repeated, somewhat more forcefully than she typically would, as much to assert this to herself as to her mother. She was aware that she was shaking her head even as she spoke and quickly stilled, pressing her lips into a thin line and swallowing noisily before continuing. “We’re friends. I know between Tommy and Frankie and Dad, all you see is guy friendships most of the time, and all that consists of for the most part is fist bumping and burping and drinking beer, but friendships with girls are different.”

“You’ve never had a friend like Maura before,” Angela said emphatically, nodding. “Every other girl I ever saw you with, all you would do is fight over whose Pogs were better and who pulled whose braids.”

“Ma, just because you tried to set me up with every Catholic girl you thought was a good example on the block doesn’t mean I considered any of them to actually be a friend,” Jane groaned, stabbing a carrot with some ferocity. “Susie Culpepper and Annie Lewis were backstabbing little brats, and Tricia Dawes didn’t want to do anything where she might sweat. Did you seriously think I’d be friends with a girl who only wore pink, ever?”

“I never saw you making fun of Lisa Garrett the way you make fun of Maura,” Angela continued, not seeming to even hear her. “I never saw you let Vicky Nickles dress you up for a night out. I never saw you telling Beth Timmons how smart and gorgeous she is-“

“Maura is smart and gorgeous, Ma, what am I supposed to do, lie?” Jane interrupted, defensive, but Angela plowed ahead.

“And I never saw you get that soft look on your face when you looked at Patti Owens, and I never saw you hug any of those girls near as much or as long as you do Maura.”

That gave Jane pause. Mostly because if she thought about it, that was true. But that still didn’t mean anything. She was sure of it.

“That’s because none of those girls were my best friend, Ma. Maura is.”

“But most girls who have best friends stop hanging out with them as much once they’re middle aged,” Angela countered, even as Jane’s jaw dropped and her finger rose up to point at her mother accusingly.

“Okay, since when is 35 middle aged, back in the Renaissance times? And Maura and I work together, what am I supposed to do, get a new job?”

“You spend all your time off the job with Maura,” Angela reminded her, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “And you even spend the night with her. Sharing the same bed. Do most middle aged- oh, excuse me, Janie, most YOUNG WOMEN- do that with their friends?”

“How the hell do you know that, Ma?” Jane burst out with, more than a little taken aback. “Do you hide secret cameras in my apartment or something?” 

She hoped to hell she didn’t, though she wouldn’t put it past her mother. Even as this crossed her mind, she was wondering…what if her mother had been watching too many crime shows and put them up, hoping to catch any stealthy criminals attempting to break in, despite the fact that her daughter was a police detective who was perfectly capable of doing so on her own? And if she had, what exactly had she seen or heard on them? Remembering the occasionally far too intimate positions she and Maura had woken up in, not to mention the awkward conversations Maura had initiated against Jane’s will or expectations, Jane’s face flamed. Was this why this conversation was happening right now?

“No, of course not, Janie, don’t be paranoid,” her mother responded, sniffing, as though her daughter’s concern for this did not have some validity to it, given her over interest in her life. 

For perhaps five seconds, Jane let herself relax. So this was just more of her mother’s assumptions, which just happened to be a bit too uncomfortably close to the mark. 

But then Angela spoke again. “Maura told me all about it.”

Jane, who had just taken a swallow of her soda, almost spat it out at this information. “Maura TOLD you?!”

She wracked her brain frantically, trying to think of anything else possibly embarrassing, strange-sounding, or just personal that Maura might have mentioned to her mother, never suspecting that Angela would hold onto the information as emotional blackmail. Maura was definitely the smartest person that Jane knew, but when it came to understanding what was and wasn’t appropriate information to openly talk about, especially with someone’s already far too nosy mother, she was definitely on the dumb side. 

Not that Jane would ever tell her that. She thought of Maura as innocent, rather than socially awkward; she simply was too honorable and noble to understand how other people might use her or the information she gave to them for ill intentions. She was just too sweet, too kind, too-

“Well if it’s not a big deal, if you’re just best friends hanging out together, what’s the big deal if Maura tells me anything?” Angela was interrupting her train of thought to demand in an all too annoying sly manner, smirking towards her daughter. “It shouldn’t matter at all, seeing as how you and Maura are just friends.”

“We are,” Jane said through gritted teeth, shaking her head. “Now, if we can talk about something that actually has some basis in reality here-“

“You know, Jane, I saw an expert on body language on Dr. Phil, and he said that if you shake your head while you’re talking, even if you’re saying that something is true, it really means no,” Angela pointed out, her eyes wide. “And I just saw you shake your head, Janie!”

Jane threw her head back towards the ceiling, letting a frustrated growl escape her throat. “Ma! How many times have we talked about watching Dr. Phil?! This is the kind of crap he puts in your head, this is exactly what I was talking about!”

“Oh, he’s a very smart man, Janie, you just don’t know until you watch yourself,” Angela was nodding earnestly as she spoke. “I’ve learned a lot about how to deal with you and your brothers from watching him.”

“That explains a lot,” Jane muttered, taking a long gulp of her drink. 

“Janie, you and Maura have date nights where you dress up, and one time, you even both brought your mothers with you,” Angela continued determinedly, ticking off her evidence on her fingers. “You never seem to date anymore more than once or twice at the most, you always break it off, Maura never dates anymore more than once or twice, and you both spend much more time together and have much more fun together than you ever do with anyone else. Why won’t you even consider it?”

“Well, Ma, great reasons there, really awesome detective work,” Jane muttered sarcastically, shaking her hair back from her face and ignoring her mother’s pointed mouthing for her to take her elbows off the table and sit up straight. “We really ought to hire you on as our newest investigator. Here’s the problem with your reasoning though. Whether or not you wanna believe it, however many examples of your amazing pieces of screwy evidence you have before you, there’s just one glaring little detail you left out. I’m not a lesbian, and neither is Maura!”

Was she? Maura had never outright spelled out to her that she was exclusively heterosexual. But Jane had only heard her talk about dating men. That had to indicate she was straight, didn’t it? There hadn’t been some secret signs otherwise that Jane had missed and her mother picked up on, had there been?

This was ridiculous! Why was she even letting her mother make her doubt this way, when this was the same woman who was practically in love with Bill O’Reilly, for god’s sake?

“Well, how do you know for sure you’re not a lesbian if you never try it?” Angela asked, in such a casual and reasonable tone that it was as though she was asking Jane how she knew she didn’t like Brussel sprouts instead of a whole other sexuality. “You could always just try it out, see how it feels to you.”

“Ma, Maura and I are not a pair of shoes,” Jane groaned, abandoning any efforts of continuing to eat as she ran a hand repeatedly over her face, rubbing her thumbs at the steadily growing headache forming in her temples. “I’m pretty sure dating a woman doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?” Angela asked, shrugging. “Shoes have to be walked in a while before they’re broken in. Maybe dating girls works the same way. Try it out, break them in.”

Jane let one eye peek out at her mother through her fingers, unbelieving of her own ears. “Did you just make a sex joke about your own daughter?”

When Angela snickered, Jane covered her face fully again, groaning louder. “Oh god, that was so wrong. God, Ma! Please, please, just promise me, no matter what crazy ideas you have cooking up there, whatever you do, please don’t talk to Dad about it. Or Tommy. Or Frankie. And please, for the love of God, PLEASE don’t talk to Maura about this!”

“Oh, we already did,” Angela said, the nonchalance of her voice completely underscoring the dire nature of what she was saying.

Jane’s hands flew off her face, hitting the table with a loud thud, but she didn’t even feel them make contact as she almost shouted in horror. “You TOLD her?!”

“Yes I did, and it wasn’t a big deal,” Angela shrugged. “She didn’t think it was such a terrible thing, Janie. Maura’s a smart woman, she knows how to act like a grown up about these things.”

Jane slumped down in her seat, again covering her face with her hands as visions of the horrific conversation that awaited her the next time she saw Maura came flashing through her mind. Angela shook her head, clucking at her as though her daughter was just too silly to be believed. 

“I suppose I should have included this sort of thing in our talk about the birds and the bees when you were a little girl, Janie, maybe this wouldn’t be so hard for you now. We could have talked about gay penguins, they mate for life, you know. There’s a Discovery Channel documentary I saw one time-“

“You’re Catholic, Ma,” Jane blurted out, grasping at the last straw she could think of to back her mother off of the conversational direction entirely. Religion was generally the last thing she wanted to discuss with her, and certainly the least likely reason she would ever use for any point she would try to make, but this was calling for desperate measures. “So why are you gunning for this when you’re supposed to be telling me not to touch the gay thing with a ten foot pole?”

“I’m Catholic, Janie, but I’m a modern, liberated woman too, who can think for herself and make up her own mind about these things,” Angela said simply, looking her daughter in the eye. “And I’m starting to think that maybe I should have tried harder to make sure you grew up to be the same.”

If her mother had intended for that remark to hit hard, she was successful. Jane sat up straight, uncovering her face, and took a slow breath before asking her final question. 

“Ma…are you trying to say here that you actually WANT me to be gay?”

“I’m trying to say that I want you to be who you are,” Angela told her, looking her squarely in the eye. “I want you to be happy. Is that so terrible?”

And to that, Jane could think of nothing to say. Because the truth was, it wasn’t. The truth was that it was pretty awesome.

88

As Jane drove herself home that evening, her conversation with her mother kept replaying through her mind. No matter how much she wanted to dismiss it as the insanity she was certain it was, at the same time, she couldn’t quite shake it off. 

Her mother got crazy ideas about her kids all the time; Jane had a couple dozen humiliating childhood pictures of herself in dresses that were more frills and lace than actual dress to prove it. But some of what she had said about Jane and Maura, and their friendship with each other, maybe had just a little bit of truth mixed in there as well.

But who was Angela to decide what was normal friendship and what wasn’t? It wasn’t like her social butterfly mother, who made friends with everyone from the post office workers to the grouchy old man who came in for coffee in her shop, had any room to talk. Maybe it was just that for Angela, who had instant casual friendships with everyone, she wasn’t familiar with what it was to have only a very few, very close friendships. Like Jane and Maura. That had to be it. That, and the stupid TV shows she was always watching that made her feel like she was “hip” and “modern.”

Her mother didn’t know the first thing about Jane, let alone Maura, or anything they did or were or weren’t together, Jane decided as she turned into her apartment lot. They were just friends, perfectly normal, average, not exceptional friends who happened to both be female. And if she sometimes noticed that Maura smelled especially nice, some days, or that she had a sweetness to her smile that made it all the more surprising and appealing when it took a mischievous curve, and if just occasionally she might find herself admiring Maura’s new push up bras and how they made her look in her chic little outfits, well, that was because friends did those things. 

Wasn’t it? 

She wasn’t surprised to notice Maura’s car parked near hers in the lot; more than likely, Maura had used her spare key to Jane’s apartment and was waiting for Jane to come home. That wasn’t unusual either, and Jane was pretty sure that was how it was with most best friends, stopping by on very normal, very casual visits after work, whether or not they’d been invited. Because best friends didn’t need an invitation, or notice, to come by, because they had their own key, and it was pretty standard to give your best friend a key to your place since she’d be coming by so much anyway. That was normal…right? 

She had the words “honey, I’m home,” on the tip of her tongue as she unlocked her front door and crossed its entrance, but she swallowed them back at the last second, her mother’s confrontation still strongly in the forefront of her mind. It would be a joke, obviously, but somehow saying it after everything Angela Rizzoli had just said would kind of seem to back up her crazy assumptions. 

Instead, she called out, “What’s up, doc?” Safe enough to say, and kind of funny. The sort of greeting a friend would give a friend, who was just a friend and that’s all, nothing more. Even her mother couldn’t find something to say about that. 

Jane expected to find Maura bustling about her kitchen, readying a quick, overly healthy meal for them to share, or even cleaning and organizing her belongings while lecturing about all the more efficient ways Jane could be keeping her home. She wasn’t one to sit idly, relaxing with a beer and a magazine, and certainly not watching the boob tube when waiting. But as Jane looked towards her living area, she saw that Maura was, in fact, sitting quite still on her couch, her small hands tightly gripping small knees, well developed calf muscles flexed from the tension in her legs that seemed to travel all the way up her body to her arms and face as well. Her shoulders taut, Maura kept her eyes averted from Jane as Jane frowned across the room at her, concerned adrenaline immediately spiking through her. She didn’t like the way Maura’s lips were pressing together like that, as though to swallow back words…or maybe…

Oh god, no. She knew that face. That was Maura’s about to cry face, and the one thing that Jane Rizzoli hated every bit as much as any cruel, sadistic perp was having to witness Maura Isles crying.

“Hi, Jane,” Maura managed, the words emerging in a tremulous whisper as she attempted a smile of greeting that looked more like a grimace. She swallowed, the movement visible in her throat, and Jane saw her hands squeeze her kneecaps still more tightly. Dropping her bag and coming to her in quick strides, Jane stood over her, half bending towards her.

“Maura, what’s wrong, what happened?”

“D-don’t worry, Jane,” Maura tried, but her eyes were glistening damply, and the sniffle that accompanied her words was all too obvious. She attempted to clear her throat, lowering her face slightly so her long waves mostly hid her face, and this too was alarming to Jane. Maura Isles was nothing if not a confident woman, and for her to hide her face from her own best friend had to mean that something serious was happening. 

“Don’t give me that, Maura, I’ll damn well worry about you all I want, especially when you look like someone shot your entire family.” Then as the horror of her own words struck her, Jane’s eyes widened, and she reached to take hold of Maura’s shoulders. “They didn’t, did they? Your mom is all right?”

“Y-yes, she’s fine,” Maura managed, sniffling again and reaching into her purse to withdraw what looked to Jane to be not only an actual handkerchief, but an embroidered one, no less. It was only her intense concern for Maura that kept her from mocking that fact right then and there. “It’s just…it’s…”

And then the tears overflowed, Maura’s features seeming to break before Jane’s eyes with grief. The woman’s small shoulders shook as she wept, the hopelessness of her sobs piercing Jane to her very heart. Give her gruesome death scenes, scheming, crooked deals where only the innocent were at a loss, give her the sort of grimness that any average person would shrink from, and she could plow through, do her job without so much as a flinch. But give her Maura Isles, and Jane could not take it. She just couldn’t. 

“Maura….Maura, stop, please, stop crying,” she said helplessly, but Maura covered her face with one trembling hand, seemingly unable to heed her request.

Chewing anxiously at her lower lip, Jane hesitated before dropping to her knees in front of her, pulling Maura into her embrace. Her touch of the other woman was gentle at first, tentative, as though she weren’t sure that Maura would be able to survive her touch without shattering. But when Maura’s arms came up, locking in a tight embrace around her neck, Jane wrapped her arms more securely around her, holding her close against her in an effort to soothe, but even more so, to protect. 

Even in the best of times, Jane had always felt protective of Maura Isles. She was smaller, less physically trained for self defense, and though smart enough that Jane was boggled how much knowledge she could hold in one small skull, she was also sometimes so oblivious that she didn’t understand anything at all about human nature. Seeing her in tears, showing the tender emotions that Maura so rarely let down her professional demeanor to let go of in anyone’s presence, brought out a helpless anger in Jane that left her nearly speechless. She rubbed Maura’s back, cradling her head to her shoulder, and waited for her tears to lessen before she spoke to her again.

“God, Maura, please, tell me what’s the matter. What happened, please, tell me what happened.”

Maura took a deep breath, her arms squeezing Jane one more time before she finally loosened her grip enough to reach again for her handkerchief. Still loosely in Jane’s arms, she dabbed daintily at each eye before speaking, still choked. 

“I just…I was reading an article in Journal of American Medicine, and it was talking about the statistics of divorce and sexual partners and addressing the possibility of being able to scientifically calculate the probability of loving one person for a lifetime, without marital affairs or separations or any long term separation-“

“And it was so boring it brought you to tears?” Jane couldn’t help it; her sarcasm was an ever ready defense, and boy, did she need to bring back some of her defenses after how shaken she had become from Maura’s tears. 

“And I was just thinking,” Maura proceeded as though never hearing her, and perhaps she hadn’t. “I’ve never been divorced. I’ve never even been married, or proposed to, or engaged, or even in a relationship of more than a couple of months. I’ve had about the average number of sexual partners for a female of my age group, and yet nothing ever comes of it. No one wants me, Jane. They want to have sexual intercourse with me, they want to interact with me and see if we have agreeable compatibility…and the answer always comes down to no, we don’t. No one finds themselves to be compatible with me, Jane. Something about me keeps everyone from ever wanting to engage me in more than a few sexual encounters…and Jane, I think that’s the way it’s always going to be! There’s something wrong with me, something so horrible that I’m just…I’m incompatible with humanity!”

She gave a fresh sob then, dropping her face back to Jane’s shoulder, and Jane felt every muscle of her body go tense with indignation at Maura’s words. She shook her head immediately, her voice coming out fierce as she countered her.

“Maura, don’t you ever say anything like that about yourself again. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, nothing! The problem isn’t you, or anything about you, the problem is that you’re so damn amazing that you’re too good for all the assholes out there sniffing around you. You are so, so much better than all of them, baby. You’re gorgeous, you’re brilliant, you’re funny, you’re sweet and thoughtful and goofy and…Maura, there is not a person alive who should think you’re not enough for them, or not what they want, because they would be damn lucky that you give them the time of the day.”

Maura sniffed again, taking in a slow, shuddering breath. Then she lifted up her face, meeting Jane’s eyes with her own, looking back at her with an intensity that made Jane swallow, as much for that as for the tears still standing in her eyes.

“Really, Jane?”

“Yes, really,” Jane repeated, softer, but still forcefully. “Anyone who doesn’t want you is a complete idiot, and blind, deaf, and dumb too.”

Maura bit her lower lip, and when she started to pull back from Jane slightly, Jane instinctively tightened her grip, not wanting to let her go. But Maura wasn’t really backing away; she was simply adjusting herself so she could grasp both of Jane’s hands in her own, holding her gaze in her own once more.

“Anyone?” she repeated softly. “What about you?”

It took Jane more than a few moments to figure out exactly what it was that Maura seemed to be implying. Even then, when it finally hit her, she couldn’t quite believe that Maura had meant it the way it sounded. It was her mother’s craziness affecting her, that was all. There was no way that Maura was asking her if she WANTED her, and if she was, she couldn’t possibly mean it like that. No way.

But Maura was looking at her with her whole heart in her eyes, tears still ready to overflow, if Jane’s answer was too long in coming or too harsh in its words. Maura was gripping her hands tightly, and god, her thumbs were stroking over their backs in a way that Jane was pretty sure was not an unconscious gesture on her part. And Maura’s leg was fully pressed against hers, and she was licking her lips again, drawing Jane’s attention to just how shiny and pink her lipstick was, making her wonder if it tasted as good as it made her lips appear-

No. This was not happening, none of this could be happening at all!

But it was. It was, and what was more, every moment that she and Maura had ever spent alone together, and quite a few that they had not, had been leading up to this moment in time. To Maura’s question, to Jane allowing herself to realize it all, for the first time. And as every moment she had spent with Maura of the past several years, every not so idle thought and daydream came rushing in a tangle of confusion in her mind, Jane realized that, as happened way more often than she ever would admit, her mother happened to be right.

She did love Maura, not just as her coworker, not just as her friend or even an extended sister of sorts, but as so much more. She loved Maura for all the reasons that made her unlike anyone else she had ever met or ever would, and because of who Maura was, and who she was to her, she loved her in a way she had never quite been able to love anyone else. 

Maura was beautiful, and smart, and kind and funny and all the other things that she had told her, all of this was indisputable. And for all those reasons and so many more, Jane did want her. 

All that was left now was her response. And how long had her mother, her coworkers, even Maura herself, been waiting for that from her now? How long had all of them known, before Jane could acknowledge it to herself as well?

A slightly uneven breath escaped Jane then, and she slowly squeezed Maura’s hands in hers, her head inclining in a faint nod. 

“Yes,” she said quietly, her own lips thinning. “Yes, Maura. Me too.”

She watched Maura’s tears recede, her lips curve into a slow smile, and Jane started to lean forward almost as though magnetically pulled, eyes closing, lips parting with their intention to meet with the other woman’s. She leaned forward slightly, making up for the distance in height….

And then jerked backward as Maura released her hands to give an excited clap, laughing out loud in her face. 

“Yes! She was right, it worked!”

Disgruntled, and more than a little startled, Jane jumped back, staring at Maura with both eyebrows rising to her hairlines. Did Maura just LAUGH at her?! 

“Maura…what the hell just happened?” she said slowly, her heart beginning to pound. This couldn’t be a joke. This couldn’t be something so horrible, so cruel, Maura would never do this to her just to…to what, exactly? Why the hell would she do something like this?

“Well, you told me that you want me, and then I became very excited because your mother was right, and everything went exactly as we both predicted,” Maura said calmly and logically, as though Jane should certainly understand exactly what she was talking about. 

Jane didn’t. Not even a little bit. And despite Maura’s clear happiness at what had just gone down, she wasn’t feeling even the slightest bit like smiling. Crossing her arms defensively, she glowered towards her, all the more defensive at the mention of her mother. Now her MOTHER was in on this?!

“Predicted WHAT, Maura? If this was some kind of joke, I don’t appreciate this. I didn’t think you were the kind of person to play with someone like that, and for my mom to set you up with it, well that’s just-“

“Oh, no, Jane, it’s not a joke at all,” Maura protested, shaking her head, her forehead knitting with concern as she finally seemed to take in some of Jane’s emotions. “No, I meant every word, and it’s wonderful. It’s just that your mother and I were discussing about my feelings for you, and how you don’t seem to acknowledge your feelings for me-“

“Oh god,” Jane covered her face yet again, feeling her cheeks redden. “WHY does this become a conversation every time I leave the room?”

“And she pointed out how difficult it is for you to see women, especially me, in highly emotional mental states, and that you either get tongue tied and awkward or protective and eager to aid them in their distress,” Maura overrode her. “And so she suggested that I utilize tearfulness to encourage you to wish to aid me, and then perhaps it would inspire you to more openly and honestly share your own emotions as well. And it worked. Your mother is a very smart woman.”

As Jane digested this, unsure if she should feel angry at what seemed to be some rather sneaky manipulation, or just throw up her hands and laugh at the craziness of the two women in her life, she was not unaware of Maura’s shoulder coming to rest against hers again, very near to an embrace. Still, it wasn’t enough to fully distract her from her sudden realization. 

 

“You were faking me out with the crying!” she accused, pointing down at Maura. “And the talk about no one wanting you, and- all of that! Maura Isles, I thought you didn’t lie!”

Maura’s eyes widened earnestly as she shook her head, attempting to justify. “Oh, no, Jane, I certainly didn’t lie. I spoke words that do at times seem very true to me and when thinking in that manner, I was able to bring up certain emotional states within myself that were very genuine-“

“You were totally lying, you said you knew how I felt the whole time,” Jane shook her head, but she was chuckling then as she slowly turned to face Maura. “My mother is such a bad influence on you.”

“Then I suppose you will have to be the good one,” Maura said slyly, as her face tilted up. “I seem to remember that you were trying to kiss me, Jane, if you want to start off showing me your own ways?”

This time, when Jane leaned in, Maura didn’t move away. 

The end


End file.
